


scared me to death

by cosmicallycatastrophic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autopsies, Forensics, Gen, Meet-Cute, Shrunkyclunks, criminal profiler natasha, forensic pathologist bucky, im joking it is really not meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 16:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicallycatastrophic/pseuds/cosmicallycatastrophic
Summary: The body comes in at 9:37.





	scared me to death

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't a gore fic or anything but be warned there are descriptions of death, corpses, injuries etc. also i'm definitely not an expert, either in forensic pathology, writing, or the marvel universe. i've just been reading a lot of patricia cornwell. also i have finals tomorrow and this is what i'm doing, go figure.

The body comes in at 9:37. Bucky’s only just signed in, and he hasn’t even opened the refrigerator yet; he’s sorting through post-its that were left on his desk and organising his tasks for the day. There was a multiple homicide yesterday, somewhere in Manhattan, but apparently because one of the victims is from Brooklyn it’s their jurisdiction. Stupid, Bucky thinks, to spend so much time transporting the corpses- it could affect the autopsy findings due to decomposition and the fact that the vans are rarely a decent temperature, but whatever. He shouldn’t worry about it, anyway, the cause of death is pretty clear, because there were eyewitnesses at the scene.

Bucky’s about to open the refrigerator and prep for his first autopsy of the day, when Dr Romanov wheels in the gurney. Bucky likes working with Natalia because she’s so strangely smart. She works in criminal profiling, identifying psychopaths and killers, but she helps with autopsies sometimes; her small deft fingers and perfect for delicate suturing or removal of tiny debris.

“Check it out, Barnes.” She peels back the sheet to reveal dirtied blonde hair and a face that is half one giant bruise. “Sent straight to you.”

Bucky sighs. “Nat, he’s not even toe-tagged. I’ve got a backlog, get someone to identify him and I’ll get round to it.”

Natalia shakes her head and shrugs. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this one. Orders from Fury, this is top priority today. Look, dog tags, he’s a vet like you. We ran a check on the name though, nothing relevant. He could be wearing someone else’s.” She reaches down and rattles them.

“Gross, Natalia. Put some gloves on.” Bucky says, snapping on his own latex gloves, even on his prosthetic, because blood is a bitch to get out of the plates. “How come this gets priority? I got that homicide going on, get Wilson to take this.”

Natalia shakes her head. “Coroner said he wants you on it, says you’ve got the steadiest hands. Probably ‘cause you’re half cyborg.”

“Zamolchi,” Bucky huffs out. Natalia grins. “I’ll put Wilson on the homicide. You gonna stick around and help?”

“I guess so,” she says.

They carefully move the body onto a metal examining table. Bucky takes a few pictures and jots down some observations. White, male, blonde hair, blue eyes, six foot two. The guy’s legs are broken, and there are definitely some fractured ribs on the left side, but he looks to be in weirdly good condition.

“Natalia, there should be more bruising, right? I mean- from the bone damage it looks like he fell from a building or got hit by a car, but his skin looks fine, there’s barely any surface marks.”

Natalia looks over his shoulder and hums in agreement. “Guess you’ll have to see what’s inside there. Probably a huge amount of internal bleeding.”

Bucky nods and picks up a Sharpie. He starts dotting the line for the initial Y-shaped incision, across the chest and down. And the corpse groans.

Bucky and Nat ignore the noise, because it happens often. A buildup of gas in the inner cavity comes rushing out as weird moans or breathing sounds, and though Bucky almost pissed himself the first time it happened, he’s used to it now.

Bucky’s lining up his scalpel when the corpse’s hand twitches, and he ignores this too; when rigor sets in, muscles contract, which can cause spasms. Except this didn’t really look like a spasm. It looked like someone grasping at an unfamiliar situation. The hand moves again, slowly, clenching and unclenching, and Bucky pretty much has a heart attack.

“Natalia, what the fuck,” he tries to say, but she’s halfway out the door, saying she’s getting Fury. The corpse- well, it’s clearly not a fucking corpse- shudders in a breath and his eyes flutter. Bright, bright blue eyes. That are open. And staring.

And suddenly there are words coming out of this previously dead guy’s mouth, and Bucky doesn’t know what the fuck to do.

“What the hell-” and then he’s sat up off the table, fast as lightning, and is coughing up a storm. He winces, probably because of the fatal injury situation in his abdomen; he looks around wildly, seems to realise he’s naked and on an operating table and being towered over by a guy with a knife. Bucky lowers the scalpel and attempts a smile even though he’s shitting himself.

“What the hell?” The guy repeats.

“Buddy, you think you’re surprised. Honestly, you’re lucky you stopped me when you did.”

“Wait, holy shit, am I dead? Did you think I was dead?” He looks down and seeing the incision guideline on his chest. “Holy hell.”

Bucky goes to his cupboard of reserved, blood-free clothes and offers the guy a shirt. “Pal, I am so sorry. But to be fair you weren’t breathing, and you looked… pretty corpse-y.”

“I’m what the government calls scientifically enhanced,” the guy says, smiling weakly.

“You’re not Ca- I mean, Captain Rogers?”

“The self-same. Call me Steve.”

Bucky feels like an idiot for only just getting it. Well, Captain America does look different naked and half-dead. That’s why there was no surface damage, the guy’s basically a god, his healing time is next to none. In fact, Rogers’ legs are looking perfectly straight and unbroken right about now. By god, he’s gonna find whoever called this in as a casualty and strangle them. He just hopes his latent blush of embarrassment isn’t showing.

Once Steve’s dressed and Bucky has checked him over for traces of injury, and found nothing, he shows Steve to the door. Steve pulls his ball cap down over his eyes and Bucky decides to take the plunge.

“Mr Rogers, I don’t suppose I could offer you dinner to, uh, apologise for the misunderstanding?”

Steve just laughs and keys his number into Bucky’s phone.

**Author's Note:**

> so dead bodies can make noises, how fun is that.


End file.
